


Snowflake

by Paech



Category: Splatoon
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Minor Marina/Pearl (Splatoon), Snow Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 08:24:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17763242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paech/pseuds/Paech
Summary: Agent 8 goes out into the snow for the first time.





	Snowflake

An absurd amount of white, squeaky powder covered Inkopolis from top of the highest buildings to all the way at the ground, Eight mentally noted. Marina had described it to her as 'snowfall', something that happened at a certain time of year where the cold weather would be elevated. 

Eight watched as the tiny pieces of snow drifted down from the sky, occasionally landing right on her nose and making her go cross eyed before wiping it off with her black mittens. 

Pearl and Marina insisted she'd be wearing the warmest winter clothing in her wardrobe, handing her a thick sweater, two scarves that wrapped loosely around her neck, aforementionted mittens, and her head topped with a neon pink winter hat. 

The first minute she stepped out into the snow, a ' _crunch_ ' sound heard under her boots piqued her curiosity. Another step, and a giddy smile already swept over Eight's face as she sprinted out, Pearl snickering behind her. 

Now, though, she was perfectly still and kicking the pile of snow that surrounded her. 

Pearl rolled up a bulk of snow, lifting it with a weak grunt before quickly plopping it down on a slightly bigger mass of snow, causing bits of it to roll down the side and settle back onto the ground. 

Marina patted the lump of powder snow, Pearl following suit. After deeming that the mass was stable, Marina murmured something to Pearl, then pressed a kiss to her cheek and walked over to the younger octoling.

"Are you okay?" Marina spoke up, taking Eight's attention away from the falling snowflakes. 

"Yeah." Eight answered simply with an added nod. Marina lightly smiled at her, shoving her hands into her sweater's pockets. 

"How do you like the snow so far?" Marina asked. Eight's face beamed at the question. 

"It's very pretty," Eight blissfully said, but then narrowed her golden eyes straightforward into the murky fog. "but it's hard to see anything." 

Marina giggled at her response, one of her tentacles flicking in the air. 

"I know, it gets that way sometimes for as long as I've been in Inkopolis during winter." Marina told her, gazing at the thick snow on the ground. Her eyes trailed to Pearl, the inkling carried another ball of snow in her arms to finally finish the snowman she'd been building. 

Stepping on the tip of her toes, she carefully reached up to place the ball on top of the other two sets, only to unexpectedly lose her balance and ruin her snow creation when she toppled over it. An annoyed frown crossed her face.

Marina hovered her hand over her mouth, a suppressed laugh bubbling up behind her hand. She gripped Eight's shoulder to gain her attention, making the younger octoling look up at her.  

"Eight, I'm gonna go help Pearl, I'll be back." Marina told her, sauntering over to Pearl as soon as Eight nodded her off.

Eight heard a distant 'Pearlie!' from the older octoling as she trudged through the thick snow. 

Returning her focus back to the fog, Eight stared blankly at it with no directions where her eyes wanted to wonder. 

Out of the corner of her eye, a blurred silhouette outlined by the misty fog caught her observation of the snow landscape. 

Eight peered at the figure, trying to decipher who it was. The figure seemed to still be walking ahead, specifically towards Eight. 

It wasn't until the inkling emerged from the large portion of the murky air that Eight could define lime green tentacles and piercing rose red colored eyes that neared a pink pigment.

Is that... Three?

The octoling smiled vividly, a warm, fuzzy-like sensation washed over her. Eight, for her own sanity, couldn't describe why or what it was that she felt whenever Three was around. It even got to a point when just _thinking_ about her would send Eight into an adrenaline rush, even when the sky was painted pitch black with litters of bright, bright stars, a smile would cross Eight's face without realizing. 

Flutters and overwhelming thoughts would result in her staying awake for the rest of the night. 

Three pulled out her hand from her sweater's pockets, giving a tiny wave to Eight as she huffed into air. Three, that stubborn girl, only wore a thin sweater out in the cold. 

Eight furrowed her brows, contemplating how Three could even stand the cold weather like that. 

Having noticed Eight's strong gaze at her, Three stopped in her tracks and said nothing after a couple of seconds. 

"What?" Three sniffed. Eight perked her head at the sound of Three's voice, the same undisclosed tender feeling spreading inside her chest with a giddy thrill mixed in. 

"Aren't you cold?" Eight gestured at the inkling's only sweater. 

Three scrunched up her nose in response. 

"It's not freezing that much," Three said, then a pause that only lasted four seconds after Eight's curiosity was visible on her face. "I'm already used to it, anyways." 

Eight pursed her lips at the brief answer. She already knew how Three was; for the past six months that Eight has been on the surface, the agent was practically an open book to Eight, even though Three  _tried_ to act aloof and hard to read. It wasn't until the second month into Eight's stay on Inkopolis that the octoling could already pinpoint Three as just a slightly grumpy, otherwise amusing inkling. 

Or as Agent 4 liked to put it, 'a stinky, lovable inkling.' 

Eight reached at a random scarf around her neck and casually tugged off one as it slid down from her neck. The octoling smiled, taking a step forward and carefully sliding the scarf around Three, avoiding from touching the scar splattered against Three's cream shaded skin. 

Three stood still, looking confounded as Eight secured the warm piece of clothing above her shoulders. 

She retracted her arms with a small smile thrown at Three. 

"Eight," an embarrassed blush colored Three's cheeks. "Thanks but I always wear just my sweater when it gets cold, the scarf isn't really needed."

Eight's smile popped like a bubble, replaced with a bewildered look. 

"No wonder you've been getting sick a lot," Eight jerked her head to the side. "I kind of assumed it was an inkling thing to not feel well every month." 

Three grimaced, her hand moved to cover her face. "That's humiliating on my part." 

Eight gave a lighthearted snicker at Three's abashed state, rubbing at a spot on her face with a flick of her covered thumb. 

"And what about your bad hygiene that Agent 4 and Ma-Ree go on about?" 

" _There_ is a reasonable explanation behind that!" Three squawked, hiding her hands behind her back and clasping on the other hand's wrist. "Agent work is tough. And I do half of it, Four, Callie, and Marie stay at the canyon mostly." 

"Only because you want to, though." Eight pointed out. The same shade of red in her eyes bloomed on Three's face. 

Three opened her mouth but sewed it back up when she realized she couldn't muster up a good enough retort. She looked down at the puffy snow, then fixated on Eight's glazed eyes, forgetting how bright and golden they were. And, admittedly, Three contemplated; dreamy. 

If her past, much younger self heard her deliberately think this, she'd be blown out of the water. 

With no rebound on what to say, the inkling quickly scooped up a handful of snow and rolled it up with both hands. 

Eight perked up an eyebrow, leaning in to get a clear view of what Three was doing. All at once, the ball of snow collided with Eight's face, leaving the octoling surprised and confused. 

Eight quickly wiped off the snow, getting a helping hand from Three as she did small swipes across Eight's face. 

"Have you ever heard of snowball fights?" Three asked, flicking off the last bit of snow. 

"Snowball fights?" Eight only turned more confused. 

"You just get snow and throw it at each other, it's simple," Three told her, scuffing at the snow with her shoes. 

Eight reached down to grab snow into her hand, staring at it for a second before asking another question. 

"Do you.... roll it up?" Eight asked, remembering Three's action. Three nodded, shoving her hands back into her sweater pockets and away from the cold. 

"Then I'll have to -" a plop of snow striked Three so suddenly, blanketing her eyes and the turquoise blotch next to her eye with thick snow. 

A muffled, startled noise escaped Three as she rubbed her eyes clean. The first thing Three saw once she regained her sight was an innocent smile onthe tawny octoling's face. That grin was borderline smug! 

"Eight, I swear." Three playfully said, getting ready to grab blocks of snow. 

"I don't wanna fight you with snowballs!" Eight huffed. Three looked blankly at Eight, confusion swirled deep inside her head. 

"But you hit me back?" 

"Defense." Eight responded. 

Ah. Revenge. 

"Unfair." Three huffed out, transparent clouds puffed into the air around her and evaporated not long after. Eight smiled her usual optimistic one. 

"We're even, though." Eight said. A rare, genuine smile formed on Three's face, something Eight always managed to get out of her. 

More tufts of snow floated down around them, and abruptly, a sharp, itch stung Three's old scar, prompting Three to scratch roughly against the upper side of her face. 

"Three?" the octoling piped up, staying quiet after a minute as Three still clawed at her face. "Three, what's wrong?"

Three poked out her tongue in annoyance, her scar began developing a burning sensation and just irritated her further. 

"It's this dumb scar," Three said, rubbing in lieu of using her nails. "It's been itchy for the past weeks, and it only gets worse when I scratch it." 

Eight cautiously lifted up a hand, slightly leaning forward. 

"Can I....." Eight started, retracting her arm back a bit. 

Three hesitated, removing her hand away from her face. Reluctantly, she nodded and readjusted the scarf around her neck. 

With permission, Eight slid her palm against Three's cheek, her thumb glided over the turquoise-like stain and pressed lightly. Eight hummed in thought, her thumb pressing a little harder but not enough to cause a painful force. 

The same stinging feeling resumed, the cotton of her mitten most likely irritating it. The inkling quickly tilted her head away from Eight's hand. 

Eight muttered out an apology, then pulled off both her mittens and placed them inside the pocket of her sweater. 

In a swift movement, rich brown hands carefully held Three's face, examining the scar more thoroughly. A choked up breath rised in Three's chest, her eyes focusing on Eight's steady ones. Her face flushed light red as Eight leaned in more with narrowed eyes, failing to ignore how close the octoling's lips were. Three was as good as gone when Eight started to brush against her unusual injury. 

"I think the snow bits irritated your scar." Eight uttered, swiping away the white specs as the ragged, bumpy feeling of the blue-greenish patch kissed the tip of her fingers.

"You mean snowflakes?" Three's voice was low and soft, resisting the scratching urge her scar began emitting again.  

Eight nodded, breathing in the cold air. 

"The sanitization goop must've really left a hard mark on you." Eight said, sounding sorrowful. 

Three frowned at the mention, puffing out air harshly from her nostrils, making Eight graze her thumb across the scar again as a soothing mechanism. 

"I should've done something to protect myself, instead of just passing out on the ground like that," Three sneered, poking out her tongue between the ridges of her teeth. "Then  _this_ wouldn't have happened." 

Three's fingers ghosted above the discoloration part of her skin, not daring herself to touch it slightly lest the infuriating rawness of it come back. 

"It makes me sick." 

 Eight only stayed quiet, continuing her ministrations on Three's skin. 

"I think," Eight started, withdrawing her thumb and adding in a comforting smile instead. "It makes you stand out, despite how you got it in the first place. I still think you're pretty, like the snow!" 

A buzzing feeling spread throughout Eight's cheeks as she cupped her face more firmly, causing Three to practically melt in her hold. Wasn't it blistering? Eight was burning up out of nowhere, her heavy jacket felt too suffocating at this point. Her mind felt fuzzy, numb and dizzy almost. In despite of this, her facial muscles effortessly pulled a smiled but faltered out of nerves. 

Heat pooled in Three's stomach, as her hands became embarrassingly coated in sweat and just hovering below the other girl's arms. The soft breathing she could feel on her face wasn't helping, only reminding her of how close the distant is between Eight and her. 

Shifting one of her arms down to clasp onto Three's shoulder, while the other was still in place on the inkling's warm cheek, Eight leisurely brought her face a bit more towards her. Three forbid even a small squeak to push past her lips, even when her whole body quaked with anticipation. 

"Eight!" 

Scarce touches of their lips and it was over, both immediately breaking apart at the booming sounding voice. 

Pearl was already heading in the direction of the house, Marina right by her side. Pearl seemed to be shivering like mad due to the cold temperature worsening and becoming unbearable. 

Eight and Three hadn't even noticed until now, the fuzzy warmth they were experiencing simmering down. 

As soon as Eight became conscious about the situation, she sputtered and separated herself from Three, putting a comfortable distance between the two of them.  

"I -  _Eight_  -" Three tried to assemble a coherent sentence, at least a thought. Her mind was racing and tripping over its own obstacles. 

Flustered, but also  _freezing_ to death, Eight grabbed her hand with both of hers, and then tightening her grip at the contact. Hastily, she pressed a featherlight kiss to the turquoise spot on her face

"Come on." Eight murmured, not confident enough to speak in a regular manner. With a tug, the two sifted their way through the snow.

Snowflakes were landing on the dreadful scar that resided against Three's beige skin, but for once, it felt numb. 


End file.
